


It Ain't the Whiskey that's Killing Me (It's Definitely You)

by Princesszellie



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Gen, Poor Eli, alcohol definately helps, contemplative psychobabble, i leave it to you, shippy if you want - Freeform, squint a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: Eli Vanto never thought that life in the Imperial Navy would be easy, but he really wasn't prepared for the day to day irritations that would take up the majority of his time. One mantra, one Admiral, and some self-reflection later....maybe things aren't so bad....maybe.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	It Ain't the Whiskey that's Killing Me (It's Definitely You)

_Why are you like this?_ was something Eli had found himself asking silently about a lot of situations lately. It was a ubiquitous rhetorical question, because in most cases he knew _exactly_ why the something or someone was like _that_ ; behaviors never happened in a vacuum, there was always a pattern. Knowing didn’t mean he had to like the facts, but even just asking the question silently in his head helped on his path to acceptance. At least some of the time, other times it just caused more frustration.

Like with today’s example: the protocol droid who’s only job in the entire universe was to serve drinks at shipboard social functions. The machine had no other purpose in its programing but to walk around with a tray of drinks; but it also had a wonky balance servo which on occasion had caused some minor (somewhat humorous) spills. However, today the same droid had unceremoniously dumped an entire tray of expensive liquor into the lap of some Imperial big wig for no apparent reason. The deck was as level as it always was, the _Chimaera_ had deviated not one micrometer off course, and there was no subspace disturbance of any kind. And yet there had been broken glass, wasted booze and ruined uniforms all around. The droid even had the nerve to act _surprised_ the event had occurred when it was pretty apparent to all witnesses there was some sort of premeditation involved in the act.

Eli could only watch the whole thing unfold from the sidelines in slow motion. There had been no saving anything, including the meeting (much to Thrawn’s intense annoyance). There was certainly no hope for the poor droid now. As it was led away, still apologizing profusely all Eli could ask silently was _why are you like this?_

Who could know the heart of any man, or in this case droid, but clearly the _why_ in this situation was bad programing, faulty parts and a touch of spite. Droids were finicky like that sometimes and this one had always been problematic. It was a pretty scandalous event but maybe in a few weeks it would be humorous to look back on. Maybe.

To avoid most of the drama that followed the shocking cocktail reception, Eli had snuck out a side door and headed far from the command decks. He really wasn’t in the mood to spend time and energy rehashing the finer details, which were about to be stretched so thin their relevance would be minimal, with other officers- really what would be the use. He was annoyed enough by the whole thing already, gossip would not improve his mood.

So instead he snuck into one of the smaller mess halls. It was mostly empty at this hour but the two un-helmeted troopers who were having a break were startled, gawped, and couldn’t place who he was or why in the hells a bridge officer was so far below decks. Eli ignored them and their confusion at first not wanting a scene- he just wanted caf- but it was clear they were too agitated by his presence to just let it go.

After sharing several silent questioning, but increasingly fearful looks between them, they finally both shot to their feet and saluted him. With a small sigh Eli waved his hand in a dismissive ‘at ease’ gesture; a gesture that was very disturbingly Thrawn- like in nature.

 _Why are you like this?_ There was no reason those off duty crewmembers should care, or have to care, that an officer of any standing- who was also off duty- came in to a shared space. Some aspects of command he would _never_ get used to. Of course it was the ridged hierarchy of the Navy that caused the troopers to react so violently to his unnatural intrusion into their bubble and he felt a bit guilty. But it was what they all signed up for- rank and officers alike.

Taking his cup of caf Eli retreated to the farthest corner of the small room and sat at a table by the view port. He kicked his dress boots up on the table in front of him and tossed his fancy ‘party’ hat beside them. Somedays he almost missed his ensign plaque. It wasn’t like this dress uniform was the most fun thing in his closet to wear. At least it wasn’t soaked in brandy he supposed.

This part of the _Chimaera_ was delightfully quiet, and Eli wondered if this was what life unencumbered by command was like. No constant watching of every word spoken aloud, of having every facial expression scrutinized, being questioned about every breath - no hovering Admirals. It must be nice. Not that he would know; he had lost his shot at such a blissful existence years ago. Thanks Thrawn.

 _Why am I like this? I should be grateful. This would have driven me insane eventually._ It was a truth that he had come to grips with several ships ago, but sometimes it was still fun to imagine what Quatermaster Eli Vanto would be doing right now instead of being Lieutenant Commander Eli Vanto who was sipping caf on an Imperial flagship hiding from his Admiral.

And yes, he was in fact hiding. Thrawn would need a cool down after that krayt spit show earlier. _Or would he_ ….Eli sat up so suddenly he made both troopers flinch.

_No._

No, Thrawn wouldn’t have _programed_ that droid to malfunction and pour those drinks on the scientist lap as a tactic to delay the discussions on weapons projects….that wasn’t at all out of character or belief….not at all.

Eli got up quickly and practically threw his half empty mug in the recycler. The poor troopers were so spooked by his hasty exit that they didn’t even bother to salute this time, they only stared at his retreating back as he flew out of the door; and then at his forgotten hat on the table.

Running the whole scenario over and over in his mind Eli looked for the play as the lift made its way back up to command. He didn’t go as far as the bridge, that wasn’t where he would find Thrawn, not if this theory was correct.

He barged into Admiral Thrawn’s private office; Eli never truly needed a formal invitation to enter Thrawn’s quarters or office anyway, one small perk of his position in life. There the Admiral was, seated at his desk seemingly amused to see him- as always.

“Commander,” he greeted in his smooth voice.

That tone, coupled with the ever so slight smirk- neither of which would be at all notable to anyone else in the galaxy but Eli- was the confirmation to the question he now knew he didn’t need to ask.

Thrawn also watched Eli’s expressions and was pleased with what he read. “Very good.”

 _Ugh!_ As always there was something boiling under the surface he had not been advised of and then was expected to pick up on and understand. Now feedback was also expected. Eli could tell Thrawn was waiting for him to say something. Well, the joke was on him because Eli had no idea how wasting very good, very expensive alcohol on the lap of a perceived enemy would buy Thrawn any sort of advantage- and in fact the whole episode had also cost the _Chimaera_ a protocol droid. There didn’t seem to be any tactical advantage; and from a finance standpoint it was a total loss.

Thrawn was still waiting, the expectant look still on his face. Always with that look, it was certainly one of his more annoying expressions. With no real answer Eli took a frustrated breath and blurted “Why are you like this?!”

Thrawn’s red eyes widened in genuine surprise. Commander Vanto’s reaction and tone were not only insubordinate but the question itself was very out of character.

Eli’s heart skipped a beat in fear very akin to what those troopers must have felt earlier, it was the natural reaction to stepping one line too far with a superior- even one you had spent your entire career with.

Not only had he just said something incredibly stupid, and honestly rude (even Thrawn could pick up that subtext) he had broken the cardinal sin of answering a question with a question. Even if one question was unspoken and the other unanswerable- maybe they were both technically unanswerable at this point- he was about to take a lot of flak.

They stared at one another for one or two more seconds wordlessly. Thrawn really didn’t understand what could cause the human’s current attitude and the sudden rise in body temperature causing his face to flush. “Are you alright Eli?” it was softly spoken, and with real concern.

No. No he really wasn’t. Eli was tired; mentally, physically and in truth he really just wanted to spend five minutes in the sun somewhere- _anywhere_ but here. Admiral Thrawn was not going to get that, not even after all these years. “I need a drink.”

With a real, honest to the god’s smile - the one reserved _only_ for Eli- Thrawn reached into a drawer and pulled out the half empty bottle of brandy.

He wanted to laugh, he really did, but instead Eli ground his teeth together until he tasted the familiar iron. Thrawn held out a glass, and he took it allowing himself to return the incongruous smirk Thrawn still wore.

Eli silently lifted his glass to toast the Admiral’s apparent success, which was gracefully accepted. He knew he wasn’t off the hook for his outburst but at least now he would know what made this brandy so pricey. He also hoped it was strong enough dull whatever lecture he was in store for.

They stood in companionable silence, the awkward question still in the air between them, but its importance waning by the second. Eli huffed a small sigh and poured himself another glass.

 _Why are_ **we** _like this?_ It wasn’t really a singular question now, if really ever had been. There was no _you-_ no being truly ever acted alone- there was always the bigger picture. Thrawn was always going on about the big picture view of things; it had been stupid to ask him why he alone was like _that_ , when in reality it was always a group scenario by his own reckoning. Eli was just as guilty of participation and now going forward it would have to be _we._

It had been that way all along. From the day he met Thrawn to the present it had always been _we._ Good, bad and ugly Eli had always been along for whatever ride Thrawn had planned. Truly always _we._ He was aware of Thrawn’s scrutinizing gaze, and it wasn’t just the burning of the brandy that brought heat to his face.

Thrawn was willing to chalk Eli’s out of character question to human fickleness and exhaustion. Maybe it had been a bit unfair not to tell him about the droid beforehand. However, Thrawn had really enjoyed watching the horror on Vanto’s face when the alcohol went flying through the air, knowing that it wasn’t the _act_ causing him distress, but the loss of product. Which was why a major linchpin of the plan had been keeping the other half of the bottle safe and sound as a gift for their later enjoyment. It was clear that Commander Vanto was enjoying it.

“It’s interesting,” Eli finally said aloud, offering Thrawn the bottle to refill his glass.

“What is?” Thrawn probed.

Eli gave him a look and shook the bottle enough to make the amber contents sloshing be self-explanatory. Nice try Thrawn. Eli was _not_ rewarding him with any insight in to his thoughts; he _might_ keep sharing the brandy. Maybe.

Thrawn smiled slightly at him again taking the bottle. “I thought you would enjoy it.”

“I do. Thank you.” Eli smiled too, the situation passing and the alcohol taking the edge off.

 _Why are we like this?_ Eli wondered again. But really, did it even matter? As long as their shared journey never changed it would _always_ be this way, and upon further reflection, Eli realized he wouldn’t have it any other way. He would have to find a new question to ask himself in times of trial- this one was no longer valid. He was confident he could come up with something- but that might just be the brandy talking.

**Author's Note:**

> Here just take this away from me, I have NO IDEA what I am doing. Coffee after 8 p.m. on a Friday and THIS happens. Needed this plot bunny out of my head, it was being very very loud. All started because I screamed "WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS!?" at my horse for doing something incredibly stupid yet entirely predictable....and here we are. I am sorry. 
> 
> I do love these two SO SO MUCH. Like their my favorites (don't tell the others!) <3
> 
> Title comes from a Gary Allen song (It ain't the whiskey) and I for SURE imagine Eli to have a voice and accent very much like Gary Allen's. (Spoiler: its country music) :)


End file.
